CHAPTER 12
“ No, honestly,” Christian said with a shake of his head as they continued down the corridor. “Don’t rush back on my account. I have no plans to leave London and no need for a traveling coach.”
“No need for the Covent Guard to retire to the country?” Gabe asked as he swung a bag over his shoulder. A few items for repast that the Weybourne cook had prepared for the first leg of his journey north.
His friend scoffed slightly. “Since the city’s criminals do not retire to the country…”
Then Christian wouldn’t do so either. Gabe stopped in the foyer and cast his friend a sidelong glance. Even after the last fortnight at Weybourne House, he still didn’t completely recognize his friend anymore. Christian looked the same, mostly. And his voice had the same timbre. But he was no longer the devil-may-care lad he’d once been, the one who’d been more prone to picking up a book than a dagger. The war had changed him. The death of his family had changed him as well. But somewhere, deep down, he was still the same Christian who’d befriended Gabe their first day at Eton. Or perhaps Gabe just hoped he was still in there somewhere. “Do be safe, and take precautions and—”
“You sound like a nursemaid.”
“You may have need of one.”
But Christian disregarded the comment with a shake of his head. “I have Winslett. He’s better than any nursemaid.”
“Yes, well, I’m worried about Winslett too,” Gabe replied. “He went white as a sheet when you were injured the other night. Do have a care for our friend. He has a world of responsibilities on his shoulders these days.”
“He will be fine. As will I.” Christian slapped a hand to Gabe’s back. “The road north can be dangerous, so worry about yourself. Lumley has a pistol on him. But there’s also one under the bench, just in case you come upon any brigands along the way.”
Christian’s parents and brother had come to a tragic end while they were traveling the North Road. How rampant were Highwaymen throughout the country these days? Gabe hoped he wouldn’t encounter any on his journey to Cumberland, and with any luck he would not. “Thank you for everything. Letting me stay here. Letting me commandeer your coach.”
His friend laughed in response. “What’s mine is yours. Truly. And you’re welcome to stay at Weybourne House upon your return. It’s actually been nice having you around. It can get rather lonely here.”
“You could always rejoin society,” Gabe suggested.
And at that, Christian laughed even harder.
Sophie hopped from the hired hack, tossed a few coins to the driver, and then hastened across Down Street. A coach emblazoned with the ducal Weybourne crest caught her eye, and her heart quickened at the sight. Was that for Gabe? Or had he already left and the Weybourne carriage was being packed for Lord Kelling for some reason? Or perhaps the two of them planned to travel together? She hadn’t considered that option, but it was possible. Then again, Gabe hadn’t mentioned Kelling heading with him to Cumberland, had he? No, no. Gabe was most likely traveling alone.
The Weybourne coachman hefted a trunk onto the back of the carriage, and Sophie’s heart squeezed just a bit. Would Gabe talk to her? Would he tell her everything she wanted to know? He certainly hadn’t been forthcoming the night before. She’d have to find some way to make him tell her the truth. But the time to do so was growing short, apparently.
With the sun lifting higher in the sky, Sophie tucked her cap a little lower across her brow, and made a direct path to the carriage, hoping no one noticed her in her pageboy attire. Honestly, she was more likely to be noticed out here in the middle of the morning than she had been at the Albany under the cloak of darkness the other night. If anyone caught sight of her like this…
…But what other choice had she been given? A single lady couldn’t call on a bachelor, but a servant boy had much more freedom in that regard and could go nearly anywhere. Sophie quickened her pace to the coach, and she pulled open the door; but Gabe was nowhere to be found. So he must still be inside Weybourne—
“I say,” a man grumbled. “Step away from there, lad.”
Sophie swallowed a bit nervously as she glanced over her shoulder to find the coachman right behind her, a scowl affixed to his round face. “Just looking for Major Prideaux,” she said in the deepest voice she could manage.
“Is that so? And just who are you?” the fellow asked
“Samuel,” she repeated Chase’s lie from the other night. “I’m Major Prideaux’s man,” she continued, saying the first thing that popped into her head. After all, Gabe could have hired a servant or two since he’d returned to England, couldn’t he?
“I didn’t know the major was brining anyone else with him on this trip.”
Sophie wasn’t going with him on his trip. She just needed…
Well, she might need to travel with him. An idea began to spin in her mind. She wouldn’t travel with him the whole way to Cumberland. There was no need for that. But she could stowaway long enough for him to reach the first coaching inn when he’d have to stop to change horses. Gabe would return her to London when he discovered her, naturally, but she’d have him all by herself on the way back, without any distractions and without any way for him to evade her questions. If she tried to speak to him before he left Weybourne House, he could put her off and leave without answering anything. He was particularly good at leaving her, after all. But if she had his undivided attention and no way for him to escape her…
“I don’t suppose you’d let me ride up top with you?” she asked, spinning on her heel to face the man. While the Weybourne coachman might think Gabe had hired a servant, Gabe would know otherwise. She couldn’t ride in the coach with the major, not at least until after the first coaching inn.
“Where else would you ride?” the coachman grumbled as he hefted a heavy valise into her arms. “Make yourself useful and secure that, in the meantime.”
Sophie nearly stumbled backward as the air whooshed out of her. Goodness! What was in that valise? A collection of small boulders? Before she could even think to ask, however, the front door to Weybourne House opened. Suddenly panicked, Sophie scrambled around the back side of the carriage to keep Gabe from spotting her.
“Are we ready, Lumley?” Gabe called.
“Yes, Major, whenever you are,” the coachman returned.
Sophie peeked around the corner to see if Gabe had noticed her, but he was shaking Lord Kelling’s hand and paying the carriage no attention at all, which was a relief.
“Send word that you’ve reached your destination,” Kelling said. “And best of luck in finding Northwold’s treasure.”
Gabe snorted in response. “Yes, for that I would need all the luck in the world.” He waved goodbye to his friend and made his way directly to the carriage door, which Lumley opened for him.
Sophie sagged in relief that she hadn’t been found out, but her relief was only momentary as the coachman appeared right in front of her. “And just why haven’t you secured that?” He yanked the valise back out of Sophie’s arms and started for the front of the carriage. “You’re going to have to be more help than that on the way. Earn your keep or the major won’t keep you.”
The major hadn’t kept her, but that was neither here nor there at the moment. Sophie scurried after the coachman and followed him up the ladder to his box. “Sorry,” she muttered.
Lumley tightened a leather strap around the valise and then scowled slightly at Sophie. “Well, sit down. What are you waiting for?”
She dropped onto the bench and somehow managed to keep her seat when the carriage lurched forward. The coachman urged the team of bays toward Piccadilly and frowned at her once again as though she was the most inept pageboy in existence. As far as pageboys went, she probably was the worst.
Sophie held onto the bar on the side of the coachman’s box and wondered, perhaps a bit late, if she had made a grievous error with this ruse. Charlotte knew she’d been headed to Weybourne House, but if it took her half a day to return home, her sister would be beside herself with worry, and there was no way for Sophie to send any sort of word now, no way to keep Charlotte from panicking in her absence.
Riding in a coachman’s box was miserable. It began raining about an hour outside of London and hadn’t stopped. Sophie was drenched through to her skin. The road was slippery and she held onto the bench with all her strength to keep from being tossed from the top of the carriage. They would have to stop and change horses soon, wouldn’t they?
She sneezed. A high-pitched sneeze that she hadn’t been able to help.
Lumley cast his disapproving glare her direction once more as rain slid from his bowler hat. “Grab some coffee when we stop to change horses,” he grumbled over the rain. “It’ll keep you warm and put some hair on your chest. You sound like a bloody girl.”
Heaven forbid. Being a girl sounded like the vilest of curses, at least the way the ducal coachman said the word. But as they hadn’t stopped to change horses yet, Sophie simply agreed with the nod of her drenched head. She wanted to ask how much longer it would be before they stopped, but didn’t trust herself not to sound like a girl.
After what felt like a millennia, Sophie thought she spotted something up ahead. She swiped the rain from her face, squinted, and… a coaching inn! It really, truly was! Thank heavens. Relief filled her heart as Lumley guided the team into the yard and drew the coach to a stop.
“Help the ostlers unhitch the horses,” the coachman ordered as he hopped from his box.
But Sophie didn’t have a clue about how to go about doing something like that. And now she didn’t need to. They’d stopped! She just had to see Gabe. She climbed from the box, careful not to slip on the wet ladder, and then rushed toward the carriage door. Just as she reached the handle, someone yanked her arm from behind.
“I said unhitch the horses!” Lumley snapped.
Goodness! She had to end this ruse. “Gabe!” she cried out. “Gabe!”